


Echoes

by torrentialdownpour



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Gen, M'tendere lives AU, also featuring: rita wearing duck slippers, because i love them, narrated by jet, out of EVERYTHING in this podcast tools of rust was what got to me so hard i had to write it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torrentialdownpour/pseuds/torrentialdownpour
Summary: Jet contemplates his future by facing his past, along with someone who shares one painful memory.Self indulgent M'tendere lives AU; takes place just after Tools of Rust (basically a continuation of it).
Relationships: M'tendere & Jet Siquliak, Rita & Jet Siquliak
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> I've listened to Tools of Rust way too many times, and this is the result.  
> This is my first time posting my writing, so I hope you enjoy!

There is a certain irony in every backwards glance.

Perhaps this is why I risk looking back only when necessary. Only to ensure I have not walked this path before, as I told Juno all those months ago. The past is a shadowy thing; to turn back and dive into its depths is to allow it to lure me back in. I do not look, just as I do not reach for the things I’ve put behind me. I do not allow my past, or the man I used to be, roam free.

Earlier today, I unlocked the cage of the Unnatural Disaster. I was afraid that doing so would shatter the control I have gathered over myself. I believe that that control is essential in order to avoid becoming the thing I fear most, but today I allowed my past to guide me, and I did not let it take over. Does this mean that the discipline I have spent so long perfecting was unnecessary? To let the past rule is to lose oneself; to take a measured step back, only to learn what one can, is a possibility I had not considered before. Or at least one that I had considered too dangerous.

Time is our propellant, I said only hours ago. But only by glancing back can we see how far we have come.

I have spent many hours on many nights pacing the halls of the Carte Blanche, as I do now. And once more I strive to find the restful mind and the trust in my control and my understanding of myself, of my selves, that have eluded me since yesterday.

I breathe in and out.

At the time of our return to the Carte Blanche yesterday, M’tendere was in extremely poor condition after being shot by Dark Matters. I carried them to the medical ward. If any of the crew had misgivings about aiding such a dangerous person, they were quieted after I nodded to Buddy, and she gave a firm nod to the others. Vespa followed me to the medical ward and then ordered me to leave.

I have been walking the hallways since.

Well into the night, or what counts for night in space, I hear a quick _thump-thump-thump_ behind me, and then-

“Uh, Mista Jet? Miss Vespa said to tell you that-” I turn around. “that- oh Mista Jet, you don’t look so good.” Rita is wearing fluffy pink dinosaur pajamas and duck slippers. “Do you need a hug?”

Rita’s hugs are often painful despite her size, but they are always worth the risk of being knocked backward. Besides, being prepared lessens the impact considerably. I open my arms and she throws hers around me with a squeak. It is nice.

She steps back. “How much sleep have you got, Mista Jet? ‘Cause yesterday was real scary and excitin’ and I was getting ready to take a nap myself except then I remembered I was in the middle of a real interestin’ stream about space vampires that I gotta show you later, it has these cats in it and they’re so _strange_ they’ve only got two eyes but at least none of them blew up like that one Mista Steel threw off a balcony once and then I never actually went to sleep. But aaanyway what I’m sayin’ is that that was all real stressful and you need to rest.”

“I have not slept since we returned. I will be fine.”

“Nuh-uh! You’re going to bed, Mista Jet! I know I told you sleep ain’t all that important last week ‘cause I wanted you to stay up and watch _50 Ways To Catch The Aliens Living In Your Mirrors_ with me but I _lied_ and I’m sorry but I’m real worried about you Mista Jet and you’ll just have to go visit M’tendere in the morning even though Miss Vespa said you can go see ‘em now because you need-”

“M’tendere is awake?”

“Yeah! I mean they're not too great but they're, y'know, okay! Which is good. I’m glad they’re okay.” Her smile falters for a moment, and I remember that she, too, was witness to the brink of death today. It would be foolish to assume that her perpetual good cheer would prevent her from being affected.

Her smile returns, but it is not her usual blindingly happy one. “I know you wanna see ‘em. But you really should get your beauty sleep first, Mista Jet.”

“Apologies, Rita. I must go and speak with them.”

She tilts her head and smiles. “Aaalright, Mista Jet. I thought you’d say that. Stayin' up late is fun, but then you gotta sleep. I’m goin’ right now, right after I finish that vampire stream! Come find me tomorrow and we can watch it together!” And she runs off down the empty hall.

M’tendere is in the medical ward, on the same bed where I left them hours ago. There is a lump at their chest from Vespa’s bandages, and they appear to be asleep, but lift their head when I approach.

“Hey, Jet,” they say sleepily, with a half-smile.

I become aware of how absurdly relieved I am to see them alive. I meant what I said, even if the words were borrowed: they did not deserve to die. And beyond that, I am simply glad to see them. Some people are just the right person at the right time in life; if Rita’s companionship is a welcome challenge, M’tendere’s is a calming wave. Right away, their presence puts me at ease in a way I have never been able to achieve with meditation.

It is ironic, then, to look back to yesterday morning, only yesterday morning, when it was my most intense wish to avoid them. Even now, every piece of my brain screams to get away from the weapons designer with whom I caused so much pain— until I look at them and see instead a _person_ who has so much to give.

“You are looking well. Considering-”

“Yup. I’d rather not talk about it.” They maintain a pleasant expression. It is not one typical of someone who has very nearly died. “Your doctor seems...... nice. She said I’d be able to move around pretty soon. I thought it’d be longer, given...”

“Vespa is quite skilled. In both medicine and assassination.”

“Wow, alright.” They seem amused but not entirely surprised.

“In her lines of work, doing the job to completion is essential. And so she does.”

M’tendere laughs. “Was that a joke, Jet Siquliak? Or are you really still bothered by my tunnelling drone? The comms jammer? The battery…” They pause, and hope flickers in their eyes. “The battery. Maybe Dark Matters’ll finish it and set it up now that I’m gone.”

I remember what the agent said over M’tendere’s comms yesterday. “Dark Matters did not seem to appreciate the battery, M’tendere. They have likely destroyed it already.”

M’tendere winces.

“My apologies. You are still recovering. Do you need anything?”

They relax a bit. “Nah, I’m good! A little bored. I’d ask if you had a guitar around but I don’t think I’d be able to play it.” They gesture to the bandages on their chest.

“We do not. I may be able to persuade Peter Ransom to lend you his depressing-”

“I’m fine, Jet. I… I would appreciate it if you’d stay for a few minutes, though. Like I said. Kinda boring here.”

I find this a bit strange, but not unreasonable. “Of course.”

They lean back onto the pillows under their head. “So… wanna tell me anything else about this big job you’re doing? Since I’m probably gonna be here for a while anyway.”

“You assumed correctly yesterday. We are pursuing the Curemother Prime.”

“Interesting. You would take that much risk, on something that might be a fantasy?”

“It might also be a miracle cure. This is how we find out.”

They glance over at me. “Hmm. You know, I really never thought I’d be surprised at Jet Siquliak, Unnatural Disaster, taking risks. Guess you really have changed.”

I say nothing. But I am glad that they think so.

“So, you, Rita, your Captain, your doctor assassin. You just mentioned a Peter Ransom. Is that everybody?”

“No. There is also Juno Steel. He and Ransom once stole the Ruby 7, from Brock Engstrom.”

“Oh, how is the Ruby? Was she damaged at all when Dark Matters was chasing us?”

“The Ruby 7 sustained minimal damage. One window was shot. It will be a simple repair.”

“I’d love to take a look at her again, once I’m allowed to move. I was supposed to be studying her, you know, before you…” They trail off.

“Yes.” There is a heavy silence, and several moments pass before they speak again. I know we are both thinking of events twenty years past, and people twenty years dead.

“Hey... why… why did you say that yesterday? That I shouldn’t die, even though I thought I had to? I thought you’d never want to have to see me again after what happened.”

It’s quiet a moment, and I hear Buddy’s words in my head once more. _You should not die, Jet Siquliak. Other good can still be done. The past is dead behind us; the future is potential._ I hear those words, or say them to myself, or think them, every day of my life.

Finally, I say, “You have the potential to do good things. As does everyone. Regardless of what you have done in the past. Your battery is proof of that.”

“Hmm…”

“When you…” I feel myself begin to choke on the words. “When you stopped singing. I did not think you would live to sing again. I do not know you, but I was deeply saddened, because I know you still have the potential for good, M’tendere. It is simply difficult to recognize that fact when one’s focus on mistakes of the past clouds one’s vision of the future.”

“That’s pretty wise, Jet. Did you realize that after what happened twenty years ago? See past those clouds, turn your life around?”

“My clouds resembled more of a dense fog. Although fog can itself be considered a low-lying cloud, generally resembling stratus.” They smile. I clear my throat. “In any case, I could not see through it. And I doubt I ever would have. I would have drowned. Metaphorically speaking.”

“So… what happened, then?”

“Buddy.” I catch a flash of red in the corner of my eye.

“... buddy?”

“Yes, darlings?” Buddy appears in the doorway, looking amused. I suspect she may have been lingering outside and decided to enter upon hearing her own name. She always was one for well-timed entrances. Buddy looks well rested, despite the fact that I know her well enough to know that she has not slept tonight either. “Ah, good, you’re awake. Captain Buddy Aurinko.”

They nod in response to this introduction. “I think it’s safe to guess you know who I am?”

“Certainly. You caused us quite a bit of trouble yesterday, M’tendere, though I’m sure the trouble was intended for someone else.”

“You mean Jet and his friend getting trapped underground with me?” M’tendere looks confused.

“Partially. Vespa, Juno, and Ransom also broke into your apartment, only to find a tracking chip, without the person it was meant to be attached to.”

Impressed is not an expression I have seen on M’tendere’s face before now. “You followed my tracking chip? You would have had to get into Dark Matters to do that.”

With a bit of pride, I reply, “You saw Rita fix your comms jammer while we were underground. She is an accomplished hacker.”

“ _Dark Matters_ , though, that takes some serious skill.”

“Indeed,” Buddy agrees. “My crew is all rather skilled at what they do. And while I understand you are incredibly skilled yourself, I am afraid I am not able to offer you a place in it. I can, however, promise you a place to stay until you are recovered. You may travel with us, if you don’t mind a few life-and-death situations now and then.”

“Thank you, Captain,” M’tendere says. They will be safe from Dark Matters while they are with us. That is, as long as we can stay off of Dark Matters’ radar ourselves.

“Well, with that settled, I suppose we should leave further discussion until tomorrow. Goodnight,” Buddy says, looking first at me and then at M’tendere. “I will see you both in the morning.”

“Good night, Buddy.” As she leaves, I turn back to M’tendere. “I should leave you to rest as well.”

“Jet, wait.” They look like they are fighting sleep. Their eyes are tired and distraught. “What are we gonna do?” It is not a clear question, but I understand their meaning.

“The only thing we can do.” I take a blanket from the end of the bed and spread it over them. “We will do what good we can. When this job is complete, I will assist you in reconstructing your battery.”

“I can’t go back to Neptune…” they mumble, calmer but still worried.

“The winds there would be most efficient. But there are other ways to generate power. Other planets. We will find one, and we will help those people on the Outer Rim, and perhaps we will do enough good to begin to make up for the bad.”

They murmur something, but it is too low for me to hear, and then they are asleep. I am left with my thoughts and my misgivings as I step out into the halls once more. Yesterday morning I would never have considered seeing M’tendere again, much less working with them. What would I say to that version of myself who existed only hours ago?

I know that I do not trust us, I said to M’tendere earlier. I do not trust the versions of us that existed twenty years ago, but I do trust who I am now, and I trust that giving M’tendere a chance is the right thing to do. After all, it is what Buddy did for me.

I find myself outside my quarters without remembering getting there. I realize that I am intensely tired, and for once I do not mind the sounds coming from next door. I do not have the energy to care. I hear Rita’s voice telling me to sleep as I sink into the bed, and then I close my eyes.

The past and the future both will wait while I rest. As for the present, I have made my decisions. I have begun to feel their reverberations around me, as all actions past echo into the future. I breathe and begin to fall asleep and I know that time will carry us forward.

**Author's Note:**

> in summary, this quote hit hard: "To think for all these years I’ve been terrified of you. Where’s the time go, Jet?" / "It is our propellant, M’tendere. We push it behind us so that we may move forward. And you will, too. Sing your song, and our doctor will take care of you soon."


End file.
